


Resolution

by timelxrd, yasminkhxns



Series: Series 11...but Thasmin [11]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelxrd/pseuds/timelxrd, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasminkhxns/pseuds/yasminkhxns
Summary: It isn't New Years Day with the Doctor if there are no life threatening situations, more so for one of the fam as Yaz's life hangs by a thread.Yet, hard times means opportunity for finding some space to unwind, doesn't it?
Relationships: The Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: Series 11...but Thasmin [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578505
Comments: 11
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

“Get down!” the Doctor shouted, her cry echoing around the room along with the robotic wails of the Dalek as it sparked and melted, the scorching metal pooling like lava until an explosion knocked everyone to the ground. 

The Doctor was the first back on her feet, flinching at the remaining sparks spitting from the scorched machine. The eye stalk hung eerily, no sign of life emitting from the tank as it glowed an angry red, smoked pouring heavily from its insides. As dark as it may have felt; the Doctor couldn’t help the smugness that washed over her at the sight. 

“Is it dead?” Ryan’s voice pulled her from darker thoughts as she yanked her sonic from her pocket, giving the room as quick scan before checking the results, a smile pulling at her lips as she read the diagnostics on the tiny screen.

“Signal never sent,” the Doctor looked up then, eyes flicking over everyone's faces as she grinned, taking a small step toward them all, “I think that was my best skid  _ ever!  _ I’m so chuffed!” 

The Doctor’s joy at the defeated Dalek overwhelmed her, her jaw working overtime to keep up with everything her brain suddenly wanted to say. “Well done team! Gang?” her arms spread out around her, gesturing to the room, “Extended fam?” 

Her next thought was interrupted by a horrifically recognisable laugh that bounced off every wall of the room. Well, more like two laughs, both merging together into one sick sound that made the Doctor’s hearts drop like lead into her stomach. Her face fell, the Doctor’s already pale complexion turning as white as a sheet as her eyes locked onto Yaz; the Dalek twisting around her body, its tentacles tightening with every second it clung to her, evil and hatred pulsing through its form. 

The Doctor took a step forward, then another, and another, until she froze _—_ her gaze still fixed on Yaz’s. And even though they were Yaz’s eyes, for the moment, they didn’t look like hers at all. 

“Yaz…” she heard Ryan call out from behind, the young lad sounding as terrified as she felt. Too afraid to speak herself. 

Yaz’s gaze didn’t shift from the Doctor’s, neither of them acknowledging anyone but each other. The Dalek forced Yaz to take a step forward, the action clunky, untrained on directing something organic over something engineered.

“ _ You underestimate me — Doctor.”  _ Yaz spoke, though it wasn’t Yaz at all, and it made the Doctor want to scream because how could she have been so  _ stupid _ ? How could she have possibly thought she’d defeated a Dalek so easily? Just the sight of Yaz,  _ her Yaz _ , trapped in her own body, being forced to do the bidding of a creature so evil when Yaz was so good, made rage seep into the Doctor’s bones. A quiet kind of rage she hadn’t felt in a long time. Quiet, but  _ oh so  _ dangerous. 

“ _ Daleks survive.”  _ the creature's voice sounded smug through Yaz’s mouth, and it only served to make the Doctor’s blood boil.

The statement so bold, so matter-of-fact, was enough for the Doctor to finally find her voice. Using it to whisper a guilt ridden apology. “I’m sorry, Yaz,” she stumbled over her words, barely able to cope with the sight before her. “I… I miscalculated.”

Before she could further her apology, the Dalek’s voice commanded the room. “ _ You will take me to the Dalek fleet. Resist— ”  _ Yaz’s body suddenly convulsed and stiffened with pain, the Dalek buried into the flesh of neck probing deeper into her mind as a distorted groan of agony erupted from her throat. The Doctor almost darted forward on instinct at the sound, thinking better of it when she reminded herself who she’s up against. “ _ —and this body will be destroyed.”  _ the Dalek stated, though a sound of anguish from Yaz seeped through its final words. 

“Doctor, help her!” she heard Ryan beg from behind her, though the Daleks threat left her momentarily frozen. She knew it was capable of exactly that. If she resisted right now, Yaz would suffer an agonising death. 

“Doc! Seriously.” Graham snapped, the sharp tone of his voice setting her straight as she tried to remain calm, to not give the Dalek the reaction it wanted, even though it took everything in her power not to surge forward and rip the creature off Yaz back and stamp it into the ground. 

“Fine.” Was all she could manage. More than one word right now and her voice might just waver. The Dalek couldn’t be allowed to witness that. The Doctor licked her dry lips, her whole body tingling with nerves right down to her fingertips. “Whatever you want.” her voice broke as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Just promise me–” the Doctor sucked in a breath, trying to keep calm, for Yaz. As much as the Dalek was in control, she knew Yaz could still see her. “– _ Promise me  _ you won’t harm her anymore.  _ Promise me  _ you’ll let her go.” the Doctor pleaded, sacrificing age old pride for Yaz’s safety. 

“ _ Begging, Doctor? How much does this pointless human mean to you?”  _ the Dalek grinned in a way that made it look like Yaz’s face wasn’t her own, it wasn’t bright and beautiful and what the Doctor was used to, instead it was dark and twisted, gleaming with something so cruel that the Doctor knew any promise she asked of the creature hung by a fraying thread. 

“Probably better if you don’t know the answer to that question.” the Doctor answered cooly, fists clenching and unclenching by her sides, nails digging into flesh so severely that it left crescent marks on her palms. 

“ _ You are all my prisoners now. This feeble human vessel included.”  _ the Dalek claimed, hate swirling in dark irises as it spoke. The Doctor felt sick, hearing Yaz’s distorted voice speak so cruelly, her worst nightmare was coming to fruition right in front of her. “ _ Now _ ,” it continued, “ _ take me to the fleet, Doctor.”  _ the Dalek repeated, turning in its place as it shuffled toward the TARDIS. 

Ryan and Graham rounded on her both her sides, gazes boring into her so intensely, yet hers didn’t shift from Yaz’s turned back.

“Doctor, what do we do?” Ryan asked, fear making his voice tremble.

“Take it to the fleet…” she lied.

* * *

The ride in the TARDIS was smooth, though the Doctor’s hands visibly shook as she piloted them to their destination, with fear or fury, even the Time Lord wasn’t sure. 

She had a plan, though she wasn’t sure how good it was. Her mind was fuzzy with centuries old hate and anger, along with a new kind of rage, something  _ fresh  _ and ready to burst at the seams. All because the Dalek had chosen  _ Yaz, _ a fight that was already personal becoming  _ so  _ much more.

“ _ The glory of the TARDIS shall be ours.”  _ the Dalek stated, using Yaz’s eyes to scan the console room like it would’ve if it was an eye stalk instead. 

“Doctor…” Ryan whispered, the fear in his eyes burning into her own as she attempted to give him a reassuring smile, the expression coming across as more of a grimace. 

“Trust me?” she asked, Ryan’s lack of reply unnerving, confidence in her own plan waning slightly, yet, she pushed forward. 

The Doctor pulled the lever up, eyes now locked back onto the Dalek where it stood at the entrance to the TARDIS _—_ perfect positioning. “We’ve landed.” she called out as the wheezing of the TARDIS came to a halt. 

The Daleks gaze held onto the Doctor’s as Yaz’s expression morphed into one of smugness. “ _ Finally, my mission is complete.”  _ As the Dalek spoke, a tentacle flicked and twisted in the air around Yaz’s head, putting the Doctor so far on edge that she thought she might tip over. It was like it was teasing her, showing her its capability, how easily it could choke Yaz out if it wanted to. How it could seep so far into the younger woman’s mind that there would be no coming back. But Yaz was strong, and the Doctor  _ knew  _ that deep down inside, Yaz was fighting it. “ _ The Earth and the Doctor shall submit before the Dalek fleet.”  _

The Dalek’s back turned, and the Doctor swallowed hard. Now was her chance, no time for hesitation, her plan  _ had  _ to work. She  _ had  _ to save Yaz, and right now, this was the only way she could see how.

The Doctor pulled the lever, the TARDIS doors flying open, revealing the deadly vacuum of space. Light burst in, covering every surface so brightly and so intensely that every human aboard the ship was forced to look away. The TARDIS wheezed under the strain of staying in place as it rumbled beneath their feet, the harsh tug of gravity trying to suck the ship closer as it tried to pull away. 

“Doctor what’re you doing?!” Ryan shouted.

“Sorry did I not mention?!” she said smugly, teeth bared, directing everything she spoke toward her worst enemy. “No fleet. Only a sun going supernova, and a squid-sized vacuum corridor, about to pull you out into space!” she explained over the over the panicked cries of the Dalek. “You’re too weak Dalek, you can’t hold on! Now let her go!” 

“Except, it is holding on Doctor!” Graham called out, pointing toward their friend and enemy who was slowly but surely being dragged to death. 

“Alright!” she snapped back, immediately focused back on the console in an attempt to keep the size of the vacuum under control. Out of the corner of her eye, the Doctor could see Yaz being sucked backwards and panic brewed in her chest, even the TARDIS was beeping frantically at her, forcing her to look down at the small screen on the console, its readings filling her with dread. “The vacuum corridor’s expanding, I can’t control it!” she yelled, fingers pressing and flicking and twisting controls in an attempt to contain it.

“What do you mean?!” Graham shouted back, and when nothing worked, pure terror engulfed the Doctor’s form at her next words. 

“It’s gonna take Yaz with it!” 

The TARDIS’ systems started to blow at the strain of fighting the force of the supernovas gravity. Sparks flew and smoke burst from the console in a small cloud, forcing the Doctor to cry out and her companions to flinch away, the last thing they needed to be doing with an open vacuum ready to suck them all out. 

“Everybody hold on!” the Doctor shouted over the protests of the struggling TARDIS and the burning of the sun outside. Another resounding explosion sent the whole ship rattling, knocking its occupants around, even dislodging Graham _—_ who managed to cling to a golden pillar. 

The Doctor’s focus was on Yaz now though, the ships jarring movements sending her flying to the ground, hitting it hard as her body was dragged across the floor towards the open doors, her hands reaching out to scramble for any kind of grip on the smooth floor of the ship. The Doctor’s hearts leapt into her throat as Yaz’s form neared the deadly abyss of space, her hands flying out just in time cling onto the doorway. 

“YAZ!” the Doctor screamed, suddenly finding her voice again through the panic, instantly realising she had a choice to make. She could stay put, hold on, and try reach for the lever that would  _ hopefully  _ shut the TARDIS doors. Or she could let go, and pull Yaz back in herself _—_ save her from the Dalek and hold her tight, knowing she was safe in her arms.

The choice was easy.

The Doctor let go of the console, surging towards Yaz and letting the vacuum push her forward. She heard the cries of Graham and Ryan behind her, ignoring them in pursuit of the woman clinging on for her life. The Doctor reached out, grasping at honeycombed walls as she called out desperately to Yaz. “Yaz! I know you’re in there, I  _ know  _ you can hear me!”

“ _ She is mine now! _ ” the Dalek protested as it stubbornly hung on. 

The Dalek’s words filled the Doctor with a protective rage. “ _ No _ . She’s mine. You’ve taken too much from me, so don’t you  _ dare  _ think you are taking Yaz too.”

The Dalek groaned in stubborn anger, though it might’ve been Yaz, the Doctor wasn’t sure as she pressed on. “Yaz!” the Doctor cried, her gaze trying to break down the wall built across Yaz’s eyes, peering through the cracks to the young woman deep within. “Yaz I  _ know  _ you can hear me, I  _ know  _ you’re inside there somewhere, that you’re fighting back. I just need you to fight a little harder! You’re strong Yaz,  _ so  _ strong. I see it all the time and I know you can beat this because I believe in you, we  _ all  _ believe in you.” the Doctor took a deep breath, briefly looking back at her fam before pushing all her focus onto Yaz. “We love you, Yaz.” A pause. The Doctor felt like her and Yaz were frozen in time as she gave herself barely a second to think through what she was about to say, what she was about to admit, her pounding hearts jumping into her throat. The whole situation was terrifying, but this might just be scarier. 

“I love you.” 

That’s when she saw it. The change in Yaz’s eyes, like a light had been switched on and she was no longer shrouded in darkness. The Doctor took it as her opportunity. 

“Yaz! Take my hand!” the Doctor shouted, hand darting out, waiting for Yaz’s. A hand that clutched the TARDIS doors slowly let go, reaching out, though the Doctor could barely see over the brightness of the sun, her eyes too focused on Yaz’s own. But she felt it, a hand clasping hers, tight and desperate, clutching to it like it was a lifeline _—_ which it was _—_ the Doctor supposed. 

She yanked Yaz toward her then, holding her tight, gripping her close, knuckles ghostly white in their grasp on Yaz’s jacket. 

“Get off her Dalek. Now!” the Doctor yelled at the creature slipping from Yaz’s back as she held her tight. Over the stream of noises cascading around the console room, the Doctor heard the final  _ pop _ as the Dalek lost its hold on the back of Yaz’s neck, tentacles flailing as it was dragged out into the vacuum of space, hurtling toward the supernova as its scream was muffled by the unending abyss, its scaly flesh burning and sizzling as it fell closer to the explosive sun. 

Suddenly, the TARDIS doors slammed shut, the change in air pressure sending Yaz and the Doctor slamming into the ground, the Doctor taking the brunt of it as she collided with the hard floor, the air being knocked out of both of them. The Doctor rolled them over, Yaz’s back gently coming into contact with the ground as the Doctor hovered over her, blonde hair cascading around both of them like a curtain, allowing them a private moment in a console room full of people. 

“Yaz?” the Doctor whispered, the younger woman yet to open her eyes. “Yaz?” 

The Doctor heard multiple footsteps making their way over, but they felt in the distance, not really there, the entirety of her focus on Yaz _.  _ Eyelids fluttered, and dark pools of deep brown were revealed as Yaz came around. The Doctor had never felt such relief, her hand coming up to rest against Yaz’s cheek, the woman underneath her melting into the touch as the Doctor leaned down and planted a desperate kiss on her lips. She was safe. Yaz was safe and real underneath her as she kissed back, arms suddenly clasping around her shoulders in reassurance, for both of them. The Doctor pulled away, smiling though her lips quivered. “You’re ok.”

“Just about.” Yaz replied. 

An awkward clearing of the throat sounded from above them, and the Doctor looked up to see them surrounded in a half circle of worried humans who were avoiding looking anywhere but the intimate moment on the ground below them. 

“Right, sorry.” the Doctor mumbled as she kept Yaz’s arms tight around her shoulders while the other rested against the younger woman’s back, pulling them both up off the ground. 

“Yaz, oh my god. I was so worried.” Ryan said and he flew forward, arms clamping around both Yaz and the Doctor, Yaz reluctant to let go of the Doctor just yet. 

“Well I’m not being left out of this.” Graham announced, stepping behind the two women to add to the group hug. “I’m glad you’re safe, love.” he whispered to Yaz, squeezing them all a little tighter.

* * *

It was only later the experience really started to hit Yaz, as she sat on a cot in the med bay, the Doctor behind her cleaning the wound on the back of her neck. She let out a hiss when gentle hands wiped over a sore spot, a quiet apology sounding from behind her, though the words didn’t really sink in. She felt out of it, the adrenaline high having almost completely dissipated, the occasional shiver wracking her body at the phantom feeling of the creature still connected to her. 

“You ok, Yaz?” she heard the Doctor ask softly, not wanting to startle her, Yaz was grateful for it. 

“Mhm,” Was all she could manage to reply, mouth and brain barely connecting as memories of being able to see but not being in control of her own body plagued her thoughts. 

The feeling of the creature boring into her skin, wrapping around her body, inside and out, the  _ exact  _ moment it took over, one second in control, the next, not. She could see, but only what the Dalek looked out, she could hear, though the voices reverberating in her skull sounded diluted. Then there was her voice. It wasn’t hers _—_ at all. She tried to stop it from speaking, tried to keep her mouth shut, but it was no use, even trying to move her limbs to no avail. 

The loss of control _—_ it was terrifying. 

Yaz was only pulled out her own head by the echoing voice of the Doctor, though it was muffled by the sound of what she quickly realised, was her own erratic breathing. Her windpipe felt like it was closing up and her cheeks were wet and the Doctor was right in front of her, green eyes wide with worry. Her heart pounded in her chest, a racket in her ears, and the only grounding sensation was strong hands on her shoulders. 

“Yaz? Yaz can you hear me? I need you to breathe with me, ok? Try and follow what I’m doing.” the Doctor’s voice sounded like she was underwater, the usually soothing sound washing over her, barely absorbed. “Breathe in…” the Doctor took a deep breath, and Yaz tried to follow, as shaky as it was. She watched, just about, as the Doctor held her breath for a few moments, “and out…” the Doctor breathed out, though Yaz’s breath came out far too fast but the Doctor reassured her, asked her to try again. She did, and slowly, her breathing got better, less shaky, more sure, her heart no longer thundering in her chest as the Doctor calmed her down. 

“Yaz?” the Doctor asked, her voice so unbelievably gentle, it only made Yaz cry harder. She reached out grasping at the coat hanging from the Doctor’s shoulders, knuckles white with a grip so tight Yaz thought she might never let go. She tugged slightly, hoping the Doctor would understand, luckily she did. “Oh, Yaz. Come here.” the Doctor brought her into a loose hug, not wanting to squeeze too tight after the panic attack Yaz just had. But it seemed Yaz wanted the opposite, arms clamping around the Doctor’s waist as she cried into her shoulder, the soothing sensation of fingers combing through her hair and reassuring whispers helping her sobs subside. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Yaz finally spoke, her voice a mere whisper. “Doctor?”

“Hm?”

“Can you take me home?” 

The Doctor pulled away from the hug to look down at Yaz with a loving smile, grateful to receive a small one in return. Yaz was strong. So strong, and the Doctor knew being around her family would help build that strength back up, offer a comfort only the security of home could, something the Doctor understood all too well. 

“Of course I can.” the Doctor said as she leant down to drop a tender kiss to Yaz’s forehead, the younger woman melting into the touch. 

* * *

When they land, it’s quiet in the console room, everyone collectively exhausted. The boys wished their goodnights, both giving Yaz a brief hug on the way out, her shoulders relaxing in the comfort of her found family. The Doctor watched on, her hearts swelling at the love she held for the three humans. Though one in particular had captured her hearts the most, both of them almost bursting when Yaz turned to face her a shy smile on her lips. Before the Doctor got too caught up in her emotions, she sprung to life with a small shake of the head. “So! I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, Yaz?” she asked, though in reality, the last thing she wanted to do was leave the younger woman. Guilt and love making her want to stay. 

Yaz’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the Doctor’s question. “You’re not coming with me?”

It was the Doctor’s turn to be confused. “You… you want me to?”

“‘Course I do.” Yaz stated, making her way up the steps to the Doctor and taking a pale hand in her own, fingers interlinking. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The Doctor’s gaze dropped to the controls, free hand fiddling absentmindedly. “I just thought… well, because it’s my fault that–”

“Doctor–”

“It happened. You should never have been in that position Yaz. I wouldn’t–”

“Doctor–”

“Wish that on anyone.” the Doctor’s eyes finally met Yaz’s then, her gaze shining with unshed tears in the low light of the TARDIS. “I’m so sorry, Yaz.” she whispered, lower lip quivering. 

“Doctor…” Yaz tried for the final time, continuing when she knew she wasn’t going to be interrupted. “I don’t blame you, ok? This wasn’t your fault. How were you to know that Dalek was going to choose me? It could’ve picked  _ any  _ of us. I was just unlucky enough to be closest when its casing exploded.” Yaz brought the hand she held up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft skin. “ _ Please  _ don’t blame yourself for this.” she uttered against the Doctor’s hand, dropping another kiss to clenched knuckles that relaxed under her affection. “Please?” 

Yaz looked up, gaze locking with the Doctor’s hazel-green orbs that shined with something new, something warm. “Ok.” the Doctor nodded. “But,” she started, and though Yaz looked ready to protest, she surged on. “That also means you need to stop blaming yourself for Ranskoor. I see it all the time in your eyes, Yaz. None of us could’ve helped what happened there. That planet was horrible and those waves were nasty, neither of us could’ve stopped it.” 

“Doctor…”

“Yaz,” she gazed down sternly at the younger woman who looked as if she was trying to shrink away, yet the Doctor only held tighter. “Yaz please stop blaming yourself too. I…” she trailed off, the next two words terrifying. The Doctor may have admitted them earlier in the day during an adrenaline fueled moment, but now, the depths of the console room felt too open, too impersonal _—_ so she held back. “Now come on. Tea at Yaz’s?” she asked with an excited smile that never failed to make Yaz laugh. 

“Yeah, tea at Yaz’s.”

* * *

The Doctor led most the conversation through the evening, almost knocking glasses over multiple times with wild extent of her hand gestures. Yaz was unusually quiet, Najia and Hakim able to tell something was off, yet the Doctor’s comforting actions towards their daughter and the soft smile she would return to the blonde was reassuring enough for the time being. 

Though she was quiet, Yaz noticed the knowing looks between her parents every time the Doctor’s hand fell to her knee or her arm fell over the back of the chair, thumb rubbing absently over her shoulder. They were yet to announce their relationship to her family, choosing to keep it quiet for a little longer, though Yaz assumed her parents might have some sort of idea, especially Najia, who was eagle-eyed as ever and could read her daughter’s far too well for their liking.

As it got later into the evening, conversation slowed, Yaz managed to make the effort to chip in a little more, but really all she wanted was some alone time with the Doctor. It wasn’t long before Najia and Hakim were off to bed, Yaz and the Doctor soon following suit, the soft click of Yaz’s bedroom door shutting behind them putting the young woman at ease. 

The two women were soon in bed, the Doctor in a borrowed pair of pyjamas, the shorts hanging a little loose around her waist and the oversized jumper falling to her fingertips. They lay close under the covers, the Doctor’s arms wrapped tightly around Yaz’s waist, their bodies fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces as the Doctor buried her face in dark tresses, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Yaz’s stomach to help ease her into a slumber. It worked, Yaz falling asleep within minutes, from the calming touch of the Doctor, to the rhythmic beats of dual hearts against her back, and the comforting scent of earl grey and engine oil. 

Yet, Yaz’s peaceful slumber only lasted so long, the controlling feel of the Dalek wrapping around her body and mind quickly warping her dream into a twisted nightmare, the once comforting feeling of the Doctor’s arms wrapped around her far too reminiscent of the Dalek’s tentacles crushing her body. She could hear somebody calling her name, but it felt so far away and she was scared and alone and trapped inside her own mind and someone was still calling out to her until _—_

“Yaz!” the Doctor shout-whispered, worry underlying her tone. She jumped as Yaz shot up, her breathing erratic, sweat beading on her forehead as a lone tear escaped her eye. Yaz’s heart pounded aggressively in her chest, yet the hand smoothing circles on her back was grounding and the quiet comforts in her ear soon calmed her down. 

“Yaz, it’s ok, it was a nightmare. You’re ok now. It’s just me, the Doctor, alright?” 

Yaz nodded in response to the Doctor’s words, dropping her head to the Doctor’s shoulder and wiping her eye, heart slowing along with her breathing. The Doctor’s lips pressing gently to her temple was what cemented Yaz fully back into the room, back under the soft covers of her bedsheets, in her favourite fluffy pyjamas, her favourite person by her side. She sighed, mostly in relief, a tad despondent as she turned to tuck her face under the Doctor’s chin, arms curling around the Doctor’s waist, taking in her grounding presence, and once again taking comfort in the arms reciprocating her hug. They stayed like that for a while, until the Doctor finally spoke up, one question playing on her mind. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Yaz pulled away, looking up into the Doctor’s eyes which still somehow shone in the darkness of her room, it was otherworldly, and Yaz supposed that suited her. “No,” she replied in a whisper, hands clenching in the back of the Doctor’s jumper. “Not right now.” She took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away from the Doctor’s hold. “I’m just gonna go out to the balcony, get some fresh air. I won’t be long.”

“Ok.” the Doctor smiled into the light kiss Yaz placed on her lips, watching as she left the room, concern still filtering into her mind.

The gentle breeze wove through Yaz’s hair, making goosebumps prickle her exposed skin, but the cold didn’t bother her. After her earlier experience with the Dalek, feeling everything for herself again felt like a blessing, and she took in every second of it. Yaz wasn’t sure how long she had been out there for when she head the door slide open and shut behind her, the soft pad of socks on the ground her signalling the Doctor’s arrival, confirming it when arms curled around her waist and a chin rested on her shoulder. “You ok, Yaz?”

Yaz melted back into the Doctor’s hold, her body heat dissolving the goosebumps across Yaz’s skin as she huddled closer. “Yeah, just _—_ needed a moment.” she answered quietly, bringing her arms up to rest over the Doctor’s.

“Do you need me to give you some space?” the Doctor asked tentatively, grip loosening, though Yaz held on tighter.

“No, that’s the last thing I want, actually.” she stated, turning around in the Doctor’s hold, arms wrapping around the Time Lord’s neck, fingers tickling at the fine hairs that peppered the skin there. “Right now I just want you.” she said, leaning up to leave a lingering kiss on the Doctor’s lips.

“Right now?” the Doctor looked around them. “Here?”

“Here.” Yaz affirmed, pushing the Doctor back until her knees hit the bench behind her, dropping down onto the seat with a quiet thud.

The Doctor spoke as Yaz straddled her lap. “But, Yaz, what about your parents, they’re–”

“I don’t care.” Yaz breathed against the Doctor’s lips, irresistibly close. “I just need you to touch me… please.” she closed the gap, the kiss quickly deepening when her tongue slipped into the Doctor’s mouth with a soft hum, hands coming up to rest on her hips, squeezing lightly.

“Are you sure?” the Doctor murmured against Yaz’s lips, the soft skin brushing against each other with every word. “This is what you want?”

“Yes.” Yaz assured as their lips met, hands moving to run through soft golden strands, while the Doctor’s slipped under her sleep shirt, warm palms running up Yaz’s side, making her gasp against the Doctor’s lips, the Time Lord using the opportunity to lick into Yaz’s mouth. A muffled moan escaped Yaz when the Doctor’s hands moved to her chest, palming gently, a thumb running over Yaz’s hardened bud. Yaz pressed herself closer to Doctor, craving the contact, the touch, even more desperately when the Doctor pinched a nippled between her fingers, lips moving away from Yaz’s own to kiss down her neck. One hand slipped from Yaz’s chest, moving up to curl gently around her neck, brushing dark locks aside as the pads of calloused fingers smoothed featherlight over where the creature had burrowed itself. Yaz stiffened for a moment, until the Doctor’s reassuring words were whispered into her ear. “It’s just me, Yaz. Nothing else, I just want you to feel that it’s me _—_ everywhere, ok?”

Yaz nodded, melting into the touch when a hand ran down her toned stomach, muscles twitching under the feel of the Doctor’s fingers grazing over her body.

“It’s always gonna be me, Yaz.” the Doctor promised, leaving a warming kiss under the sensitive skin of Yaz’s ear. 

Soon enough, the Doctor felt a hand wrap around her wrist, guiding her lower until her fingers slipped past the hem of Yaz’s pyjama bottoms. “Doctor,” Yaz mumbled, her own eyes fixed intently on green ones, “I need you, please. I…” she trailed off, words she wanted to say left unspoken when the Doctor’s talented fingers met wet heat, running smoothly between her folds as she lost all train of thought, completely focused on the sensations the Doctor pulled from her. A breathy moan escaped her lips when the Doctor teasingly circled her clit, starting off slow as Yaz concentrated on feeling everything the Doctor did to her. As the pressure on her swollen bud started to increase, Yaz began moving her hips against the Doctor’s hand, arms wrapping tightly around her neck, lips planting gentle kisses along a sharp jaw, a happy sigh slipping from the Doctor’s throat at the soft brush of Yaz’s lips. 

“Doctor, I need more.” Yaz begged and ground down, a moan slipping from her mouth and the Doctor’s. 

She felt the Doctor’s fingers shift against her core, running through her wetness to lube her fingers up before feeling a pressure at her entrance as one finger slipped past, brushing against sensitive walls in a way that had Yaz’s hips keening. “Easy,” the Doctor guided, a hand coming to rest on Yaz’s hip, thumb running along the bone as she gripped dark flesh. The Doctor took her time, easing her finger in and out of Yaz slowly, thumb adding a slight pressure to her clit as hips rocked against her, Yaz’s quiet moans against her ear sending tingles down her spine and into her hips, the heat between the Doctor’s own legs increasing rapidly at the situation. 

When the Doctor pressed a second finger inside her, Yaz moved so that their foreheads could rest together, heavy breaths tickling each others lips as their eyes locked together, though Yaz’s attempted to flutter shut at the pleasure coursing through her veins. 

When the Doctor curled her fingers inside Yaz, their lips were suddenly fused together as Yaz muffled a moan against the Doctor’s mouth, her hips jerking when the Doctor continued her ministrations, keeping up the action as Yaz struggled more and more to stay quiet. “Doctor,” she moaned against the Doctor’s lips, the Time Lord practically swallowing her breaths, “That feels so good. You make me feel so good.” 

The Doctor felt white hot heat shoot straight to her core at the praise, Yaz’s words only urging her on to increase the pace her fingers had set, her thumb swirling Yaz’s clit more intently as the younger woman bit down on the knuckle of her index finger in a luckily successful attempt to keep quiet. When the Doctor looked up at Yaz, hair cascading over her shoulders, eyes screwed in pleasure as her jaw dropped slightly in a silent moan, moving against the Doctor’s hand with the moonlight shining down on her in a soft glow, an almost ethereal aura around her, the Doctor’s hearts swelled, almost bursting from her chest entirety. The Doctor’s touch may have taken Yaz’s breath away, but just her closeness took the Doctor’s.

So as quickly as they had sped up, the Doctor’s ministrations slowed to a near stop, and Yaz’s eyes fluttered open in slight confusion at the Doctor’s fingers moving agonisingly slowly inside her. “Doctor?” Yaz asked upon noticing the look on her lovers face. The Doctor’s smile was almost dopey, and a little giddy, a contrast to her pupils that were blown wide in desire. 

“Yaz…” the Doctor leaned in, leaving a lingering kiss against soft lips, “I–” she gulped, nervous excitement fluttering in her stomach, “I love you.” she professed, her grin twinkling in the moonlight as Yaz’s shocked face looked back at her. “I know I said it earlier, when _—_ you know,” Yaz nodded, not wanting to think about it in such an intimate moment, “But, I just want you to know that I mean it. I wasn’t just saying it in the moment. I love you, Yasmin Khan.” the Doctor smiled bashfully, and Yaz’s face softened as she smiled back lovingly. 

“I love you too, Doctor.” Yaz affirmed, lips once again finding the Doctor’s own in a quickly deepening kiss that left her thighs trembling, “So much.”

The Doctor’s fingers soon resumed their pace as the heat in Yaz’s belly thrummed throughout her whole body, inner walls fluttering and clenching as the Doctor squeezed every drop of pleasure out of her. “Doctor,” Yaz mumbled against kiss swollen lips, “God, I’m gonna come.” she moaned breathily as the Doctor hit a spot that had Yaz’s whole body shivering, fingers still curling up inside her. 

“Let go for me, Yaz.” the Doctor whispered in her ear, and that was all Yaz needed to do exactly that. Her release crashed over her as the Doctor pumped her fingers into her at an unyielding pace, fire erupting through her whole body, thighs quivering as she muffled her moans into the Doctor’s neck, the most clear sound between them the slick sounds between Yaz’s legs as she came hard. When her body relaxed, Yaz slumped down in the Doctor’s lap, falling heavily against her as she panted, trying to catch her breath after such an intense climax. 

Once both women had calmed down, Yaz pulled back, looking into the Doctor’s still black eyes as she stood up on shaky legs. “Come on,” she whispered, “let me take you to bed.” Yaz’s intentions were clear as the Doctor swallowed hard, simply nodding in response.

They crept back through the flat, grip in each others interlocked hands tight, Yaz eager to get the Doctor back to her room. As soon as the bedroom door shut behind them, their lips met, Yaz pushing them towards her bed as the Doctor fell lightly against the mattress. Yaz climbed on top of her, straddling her hips as she yanked the Doctor’s jumper over her head. 

Yaz’s hands and mouth were on the Doctor’s chest as soon as the barrier of fabric between them was removed, the Time Lord arching into the touch, her nipples hardening as Yaz pinched and tugged with fingers and teeth. Yaz’s lips were everywhere, moving away from the Doctor’s breasts to trail down her neck, along her shoulders and collarbones, hands still palming her chest as the Doctor sighed against her lips, the sound turning into something more when Yaz’s lips traced featherlight between soft swells and down her stomach. The Doctor’s sleep shorts were the next thing to go, leaving her naked and flushed against Yaz’s sheets, the sight was insatiable, especially when Yaz looked down to see wetness glistening between pale thighs, the Doctor trying to generate her own friction as Yaz’s gaze raked over her hungrily. 

“You’re so ready for me.” 

“Only for you.” the Doctor breathed in reply, and it sent heat straight to Yaz’s core.

Yaz planted soft kisses up both of the Doctor’s thighs as she settled between them, spreading her legs and denying the Doctor touch she needed. “Yaz…” she whispered into the air, her voice breathy and needy as Yaz’s lips got closer and closer to where she craved her. 

Strong legs were hauled over Yaz’s shoulders, allowing the younger woman to get closer, the Doctor’s heels resting against Yaz’s lower back. Steady hands gripped at toned thighs, the Doctor’s core radiating a heat that was irresistible as Yaz licked up the length of her, the Doctor’s thighs trembling at the first stroke of Yaz’s tongue. “I love tasting you.” Yaz mumbled, her words only increasing the Doctor’s arousal as a hand came down to twist in dark locks, the other grasping at the sheets. Yaz lapped at her gently, teasing the Doctor with long broad strokes with the flat of her tongue, making her feel good, but not giving enough pressure to get her anywhere, her need for more forcing a quiet whine from the Doctor as her hips lifted from the bed to seek out the pressure herself. Yaz pressed her hips back down into the bed and the Doctor whined, though it quickly turned into a quiet sob of relief when Yaz’s tongue probed at her entrance dipping in slightly as her hips bucked off the bed. 

The Doctor reached behind her blindly, tugging a pillow down and biting into the corner when Yaz’s tongue dipped further, a thumb reach around to circle her clit lightly, adding to the overwhelming sensations Yaz was evoking from between her legs. “God, Yaz,” the Doctor managed to not scream, instead muffling it into the pillow, her chest heaving with breathy moans as Yaz’s tongue replaced her thumb on the Doctor’s bundle of nerves, increasing the pressure to a point she knew the Doctor liked best. “Just like that, Yaz.” she uttered, whining when the pressure disappeared for a moment.

“Doctor,” Yaz looked up at her, and the Doctor rose up on an elbow, panting heavily, her hair a mess, cheeks and chest flushed as a sheen of sweat glistened on her body, she looked so fucked out already, and Yaz couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself. “I want you to touch your chest.” Yaz said, her voice like molten lava as her breath hit the Doctor’s core with every word. The Doctor was powerless to resist, hand moving up to her breast as the other still gripped tightly at the pillow she was using to muffle her cries, the cushioning suddenly becoming useful again when Yaz dipped back down to continue her ministrations. 

As she palmed at her own chest, catching a nipple between her fingers, the Doctor bit down on the pillow, the pleasure shooting through her like bolts of lightning making it harder and harder to keep quiet. “Yaz…” she breathed, managing to catch Yaz’s gaze for a moment from where her head rested between her thighs, “I love you.” she uttered again, and for a second, Yaz’s tongue faltered, not used to hearing such an honest utterance from the Doctor. 

She paused. “I love you too.” Yaz whispered back with a soft smile, “Let me show you just how much.” she murmured against the Doctor’s thigh as she left a kiss there, a hand shifting from the Doctor’s hip to run through her soaked folds before slipping past her entrance with no resistance, mouth enveloping the Doctor’s clit with renewed vigour, licking and sucking until the Doctor was a panting, writhing mess above her, whispering confessions of love that fell from her mouth as easy as breathing. It wasn’t long until the Doctor’s thighs were clamping around Yaz’s head, her back arching off the mattress as her hand still squeezed lightly at her breast. Yaz’s pillow was clenched between the Doctor’s teeth as she dulled her moans, eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm sent her hurtling over the edge, her body shaking with pleasure until she dropped back down onto the sheets, chest heaving. 

The Doctor watched as Yaz’s head slowly rose up, hips twitching when deft fingers slipped out of her, a flame of arousal burning in her core when Yaz lifted them to her lips and sucked away the Doctor’s wetness. When she was done, Yaz wiped her glistening chin, clambering up the bed to drop a hand over the Doctor’s stomach, leg hooking around the Doctor’s as she left a light kiss just under her jaw. “Are you ok?” Yaz asked, fingers tracing idle patterns over pale flesh.

“Mhmm.” the Doctor replied, trying to gather thoughts after the pleasure Yaz had given her had practically melted her brain. “I think that’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” she murmured, and Yaz chuckled quietly into her neck, breath ghosting against sensitive skin. 

“Told you I wanted to show you how much I love you.” 

“You certainly did that.” the Doctor said, leaning into the press a gentle kiss to Yaz’s lips. 

The lay in silence for a while, letting their heart rates settle as they calmed, almost to the point of dozing off. 

“Come on, we should get you dressed. I don’t wanna know what my mum will think if she decides to check in on us in the morning and sees you stark naked.” 

“Probably a good idea.” the Doctor replied, nose scrunching at the thought of an awkward breakfast. 

Najia did in fact check on them the next morning, opening Yaz’s door a touch to see if her daughter was alright, only to find her and the Doctor curled around each other, fast asleep, an expression of contentment shaping Yaz’s sleeping features.


	2. Chapter 2

Freedom comes in many ways, some more significant than others, but the freedom to touch, to be touched; to kiss, to _be_ kissed; to feel and to _be_ felt in return will always be something Yaz is grateful for. Especially when the sole object of those affections is the dopey, intelligent alien wriggling her legs in excitement at her side. 

“Wait for it — last one! Did you see that one, Yaz?” When she turns to regard her, a gleeful lilt to her lips, Yaz melts. She nods, but she won’t admit to having witnessed the last few sparks and combustions of atomic energy through the reflection in the Doctor’s pupils. “Cosmic fireworks, Yaz. _Brilliant.”_

She moves to straighten up again, and Yaz should’ve known she’s too fidgety for her own good. She’s always particularly restless when she’s excited, as if every muscle in her body is singing for attention. “Shall we do one more? Make it a round twenty? I’m thinking Quantifer; little settlement on the edge of the known universe where it’s _permanently_ New Year’s Eve. They’ve got the _best_ balloons.”

“A much as I’d love to, Doctor, I think I’d rather stay here for a bit, with you, if that’s okay?” Yaz proposes gently, and, as if by instinct, the Doctor loops an arm over Yaz’s shoulders and nods fervently.

“Always, Yaz,” she murmurs, features softening when her gaze slips from the colourful display still ever-present before them to flirt along Yaz’s bottom lip. 

“Happy New Year, Doctor — well, at least _somewhere_ where it’s turned midnight already,” Yaz hums, tilting forward a touch. “Fancy giving in to a human tradition?”

“Human tradition? Which one?” the Doctor looks momentarily perplexed, brows pinching as though she’s forgotten something extremely important. 

Breathing a bemused chuckle, Yaz inches forward enough to nudge noses; a sure-fire way to distract the Doctor from her whirlwind of a mind. “A New Years kiss, you dafty.”

“Oh! Of course!” the Doctor enthuses, her sudden realisation almost leading to a collision between their noses. “I thought you were suggesting cheese-rolling or a New Year’s skinny dip. A kiss sounds lovely, though. Much better than getting cold water and sand in my—” 

Yaz cuts her off before she can no doubt ruin the moment between them. The Doctor tastes like sweet hot chocolate and sugary biscuits and something indescribably _her_ when their lips meet, and suddenly the chilly breeze of open space has no effect on her cold fingertips and dangling legs. 

The Doctor responds in kind despite her interruption, cradling Yaz’s jaw in her palm and moving her thumb in a slow caress along her cheekbone. Her lips move in a pace set by Yaz, as usual, and even after their fair share of kisses, it still manages to feel like their first.

Yaz’s lips are tingling when she draws back for a lungful of air, finding her fingers bunched into the material of the Doctor’s rainbow scarf. She admires her features momentarily, taking in the way her eyes remain closed for a good few seconds and her lips remain parted slightly like she’s hoping for more. 

“Happy New Year, Yaz,” the Doctor hums once she’s regained control over her dizzied thoughts, breathing a sigh through her nose which falls against Yaz’s lips in a warm breeze. “Does that mean we can kiss again? I really like kissing you, Yaz.” 

“‘Course we can,” Yaz prompts with a laugh, biting back a grin which threatens to sabotage their kiss before it even starts. “You don’t have to ask, Doctor.”

“Oh,” the Doctor breathes, tilting her head. She smiles into the kiss Yaz grants her, teeth clashing just a touch before both women melt from the inside out, and then once more into warm arms and sweet touches. 

The Doctor is halfway into Yaz’s lap when the console pings and an alarm drags them from their reverie. Lips against Yaz’s jaw and Yaz’s hands threaded in her hair, the Doctor tries her hardest to ignore it. 

The console whirrs and a water pistol contracts from one of the compartments, aimed in their direction. 

The Doctor huffs. 

Yaz lets out a breathless laugh. “It’s okay. We can pick this up later,” she proposes, wilting under the dark eyes and cheeky smirk she receives in return. 

“Is that a promise?” the Doctor hums, stealing one more chaste kiss from Yaz’s lips before she moves to stand. 

“If you want it to be,” Yaz quips, accepting the hand the Doctor offers to help her to her feet. Her knees feel a little weak from their intense make-out session, thoughts cloudy. She’s tracing the path the Doctor’s lips had made against her neck when she follows her to the console, peering at the scanner even though she can’t fully read the swirl of circles on the screen. “What does it say, Doctor?”

“It’s bad, Yaz,” the Doctor murmurs lowly, features a complete contrast to their blissed nature only minutes prior. “Really bad.”

As it turns out, the detection of alien life in Sheffield grants the rest of their day an exhausting whirlwind of adrenaline and fear. The Doctor’s features are stony when she faces down an amalgamation of scrap metal in the form of a Dalek, an expression Yaz still sees when she blinks her eyes closed. 

They’re in the console room — Graham and Ryan included, breathing sighs of relief in unison when it comes time for them to depart for their New Year festivities. 

The Doctor visibly sags against the console at the prospect of an evening alone, so Yaz does the only thing she can think of. 

Reaching for the Doctor’s hand where it rests against a lever on the console, she draws the alien’s attention towards her. “Hey. You could always come for tea at mine? Sonya’s the only one home. We could — I don’t know — order in crappy food and watch an even crappier film?”

Graham smiles as he watches on at their interaction, hands shoved into the pockets of his brown leather jacket. “Go on, Doc. No one should be alone at New Year.”

The Doctor glances between her best friends and Yaz, features softening beneath a faint blush. “You’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding? I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

“Honestly, Doctor, I’d much rather you were there. Sonya’s probably going to sneak out to a party at some point anyway. No point us _both_ being alone for New Year, huh?” Yaz implores, giving the fingers woven between her own a gentle squeeze. 

“Can’t have Yasmin Khan on her own on New Year’s Eve,” the Doctor finally states, brushing her nose against Yaz’s temple and breathing her in on her way to fetch her scarf. “Graham? Ryan? You coming for tea at Yaz’s?”

“Think I’ll have a night in, if I’m honest, Doc. I’m dead on my feet,” Graham declines politely, ambling towards the doors with the others closely in tow. 

“I’m heading out to town with a few mates in a bit,” Ryan quips when the Doctor turns to him next, rubbing his hands together with a cheeky grin. “Enjoy your movie date, though, ladies.” 

“ _Date?_ ” the Doctor repeats curiously, taking Yaz’s hand as soon as they’re outside again. She blames it on the cold, but after a day like today, she just needs her close. “Yaz, is it a movie date?”

“S’pose it is, yeah,” Yaz hums in shy confirmation, earning a brimming grin from the blonde at her side. 

“Brilliant. Movie date with Yaz? Amazin’. See you tomorrow, boys.” The Doctor waves them off with a giddy smile, then sweeps her arm around Yaz’s shoulders in enthusiasm. “Did I ever tell you about the time I auditioned for a part in _Elf?”_

* * *

Two films and two and a half bags of microwavable popcorn later, Yaz curls her blanket closer to her chin and drops her head to the Doctor’s shoulder. Their fingers brush between kernels in the bowl cradled in Yaz’s lap, eliciting coy huffs of laughter.

The Doctor interacts enthusiastically with each film they sit through — something Yaz could predict from the get-go. She’s making a comment about the quality of _E.T_ ’s spaceship when there’s a rustle from behind them and Sonya is caught, red-handed, with two bottles of spirit and a pack of ciders. 

Yaz turns, ready to open her mouth and shift into police-mode, but Sonya speaks up first. 

“I’ll tell mum and dad you had really loud sex with the Doctor all night if you tell them I’m going to a party instead of staying at Afia’s,” Sonya threatens amicably, a smirk lifting her lips when the Doctor chokes on a piece of popcorn. “Deal?”

“I — oh my God, you’re _so_ annoying,” Yaz huffs, twisting back to settle beside the Doctor while Sonya heads for the door. “Just make sure you’re safe, okay?”

“Yes, _mum,”_ Sonya calls through the hallway, the door falling closed with a _clink_ in her wake. 

“We don’t have _really_ loud sex, do we?” the Doctor probes the minute they’re alone again. Yaz can _hear_ the cogs in her brain turning. “How does she even know we —” 

“Doctor, just ignore her,” Yaz says gently, sinking back in against her side with burning cheeks. “At least we have the place to ourselves now,” she notes casually, but the words resonate within the Doctor’s thoughts until their interrupted kisses from earlier are the only thing on her mind. 

“Doctor,” Yaz hums a few minutes later when no more displeased comments are sent in the direction of the television. “You’re thinking too loud. What is it?”

When she turns her head, the Doctor’s kiss catches her pleasantly off-guard. A warm palm envelopes her jaw, thumb tracing her pulse when it flutters as if predetermining its quickening pattern. The kiss is slow and attentive and just firm enough to send butterflies free in the confines of Yaz’s stomach. 

Lifting an arm to loop around the Doctor’s neck, the blanket follows, cocooning them in the warmth of two bodies entwined. 

In time, Yaz presses closer, seeking more, and in an effort for such, the Doctor draws her in, encouraging her to lie back so they can slot together properly. 

Amid the process, the Doctor nudges the television remote and sends the channel to a worldwide broadcast of the celebrations. Firework displays light the screen, and while the Doctor is distracted by the colours and intensity, Yaz seizes the opportunity to lean up and ghost kiss-swollen lips in a slow caress against her neck. 

Her hands settle against her waist but drop to her hips when the Doctor breathes a soft, breathy sigh, head tipping back a touch. “I like it when you kiss me there.”

“I _know_ ,” Yaz purrs, the tone of her voice sending heat pooling low in her abdomen. She laps gently at her pulse-point with her tongue, then _sucks_ , coaxing another one of those blissful sighs she doesn’t think she’ll ever bore of. 

“Here, too,” the Doctor admits, voice wavering, nerve endings tingling. She points shyly to a spot just below her ear, cheeks warming with the admittance. 

Willingly, nonetheless, Yaz follows in the requested direction, nudging her nose along her jaw on the way to her ear. When her lips press and mould against her skin, right where the Doctor’s finger was mere seconds previous, the blonde gives a faint shiver against her. 

“Yaz,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip to stop a chorus of rambling words. She indulges herself for a few more minutes until her hips squirm and she has to swallow heavily. She dances her fingertip over her plump bottom lip in request. “Here, please.”

Yaz hums into the kiss the Doctor grants her, giving in to the gentle push at her shoulders if only so she can draw the blonde down with her. 

Slotting flush between Yaz’s legs, the Doctor props herself up on her elbows in the pyjamas she’d borrowed, the pale pink material tight around her biceps. She sweeps her tongue into her mouth with ease, kissing her deep enough to make her dizzy. 

Yaz lets slip a breathy moan when the Doctor drops a hand to caress over her chest through her button-up plaid pyjama top. She feels like a teenager all over again, making out on a couch while her counterpart cops a feel. The thought is enough to make her smile against the Doctor’s lips, a giggle joining the mixture of shallow breaths and wet mouths echoing in the place they’ve found for themselves in time and space.

“What’s so funny?” the Doctor huffs playfully when Yaz’s smiling lips make it harder for them to kiss. She ducks her head instead, putting her mouth to better use against her throat. 

“I’m just happy,” Yaz admits earnestly, giving the Doctor pause. “With you; with this, with everything.”

The Doctor pulls back to press their foreheads together, noses touching. Her grin spreads slowly, like a Cheshire cat, but there’s a shyness there, too. There’s something vulnerable about these kinds of admissions. “Me too,” she whispers, cheeks pink. “Gotta say, though, I think your bed might be a bit more comfortable if we’re going to continue.” 

Yaz laughs into the space between them, offering up a nod. “Bit presumptuous, Doctor.” 

“W— well, that’s — we don’t _have_ to, I just thought — did I read this wrong?” the Doctor stammers, cheeks flushing, eyes wide. She’s the picture of a deer in headlights. 

“I was only teasing, you dumbo,” Yaz finally eases the tension in the Doctor’s shoulders, earning her a scrunch of her nose. She reaches out boldly, smoothing her palms along the Doctor’s thighs. “C’mon, up you get. Let me lead the way.”

“I’m not going to get lost looking for your room, Yaz,” the Doctor mumbles, slipping from the couch and offering a hand. 

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Yaz quips, flicking the television off before she weaves their fingers together and squeezes. “And I need you too bad to risk it.”

The Doctor’s lips curl into a lopsided grin, eyes glistening with something stormy as she’s walked through the Khan’s flat and into the spacious, meticulously-organised room Yaz calls her own. There’s a group of photos tacked neatly to the wall in front of her desk, which is tidy and minimal, but the Doctor doesn’t have time to linger. 

She sinks down onto the edge of Yaz’s bed and reaches out when Yaz follows, making her pause just short. She lifts her hands from her hips to the hem of her top, then slips them beneath to span her faintly defined stomach. Instead of unbuttoning and peeling the garment away, she ducks her head, lifting her top to press her lips to her hip, then her midsection, tongue swathing her skin in slow laps. 

“Doctor,” Yaz sighs, muscles jumping beneath her lips. She curls her fingers through her hair, shuddering when the Doctor lifts her top further. “Off,” she whispers, “Just take it off.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” the Doctor hums against her stomach, where she dots affectionate kisses while her fingers work on the pesky buttons keeping her shirt together. Once they’re undone, she hears the garment fall to the floor and follows a tortuous path upwards. 

“God, you’re going to kill me,” Yaz whimpers when the Doctor focuses her attention on the underside of her breast rather than where she needs it most. Reigning in some of her control, she shifts, climbing into the Doctor’s lap. 

To her surprise, the Doctor doesn’t lose her place, looping her arms around her hips to keep her there while she grazes her teeth over her sensitive flesh. 

“Doctor, _please,”_ Yaz mewls, arching her chest, nipples already hardened in the chill of the room. She gives a faint little tug at blonde locks, seeking attention. “I need your mouth.”

“When you ask so nicely,” the Doctor hums, leaning up to finally take a dusky bud between swollen lips and lather it in attention. 

Yaz cries out, mind clouding over in sheer bliss until suddenly the mattress is at her back and the Doctor is working her way back down the slow slopes and swells to her hips. She glances up, then, eyes glossy, lips parted and swollen, fingers curled around the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. “You said you needed my mouth?” she whispers, arching a slim brow, but there’s still a hint of shyness there as usual when they’re in this situation. 

“Please,” Yaz hums, lifting her hips when the Doctor acquests. 

The first lap of the Doctor’s tongue against her core sends toned thighs trembling. She maps her out again and again as if committing the route to memory, knowing just where to suck or curl her tongue or graze her teeth in order to leave Yaz a writhing, wrecked flurry of groans. 

She parts her with her tongue and probes curiously at her entrance, glancing up to catch wide, dark brown eyes in question. 

“More,” Yaz murmurs, the Doctor’s hair soft and silky where she grips it between her fingers. “Please.”

The Doctor doesn’t waste her time, sinking a finger past her aching core to curl and brush against her walls and earn a string of keening whines from above. She’s never been so grateful for an empty house, because if her family _were_ home, there’s no doubt that they’d hear. 

She winds her up like a spring, ready to unfurl at the tips of her fingers and tongue. She sucks at her clit when Yaz’s moans raise in pitch, adding another finger with ease and thrusting until she’s sure the other woman is seeing stars. 

When Yaz comes, it’s with a guttural cry of the Doctor’s name, head tossed back and thighs clamped tight around the intrusion.

The Doctor delights in the way she flutters around her fingers for the next few moments, tiny shivers making their presence known in the twitches of her thighs and stomach muscles. 

She could happily remain where she is for the rest of her days, feasting on the most delicious of fruits like some kind of empress. 

When Yaz comes down from her high, and only then, the Doctor slips her fingers free to tuck between her lips and suck clean. “So good.”

Yaz _really_ shouldn’t find the slick sound so arousing, but she’s learnt a lot about this side of herself since meeting the Doctor, so it’s simply another thing to add to the list. 

As soon as the Doctor slumps down beside her, Yaz draws her into a kiss which draws all the oxygen from her lungs _and_ her respiratory bypass system. It leaves her wound up enough that when a small hand works its way beneath her borrowed pyjama shorts, she’s one touch away from coming there and then. 

“Gods, Yaz, I’m not going to last long,” the Doctor whines into her neck as she curls into the pressure of fingertips which dance in a tentative waltz against her clit. “I never can when it’s you.”

The knowledge springs heat to Yaz’s cheeks and undoubtedly strokes her ego, but she won’t tell her that. “Better hold on, then, baby.”

The term of endearment makes the Doctor melt from the inside out and she grips at Yaz’s forearm to anchor herself when she presses more firmly against her. 

She’s soft and warm and squirming against her side while Yaz works her up gently, and the sight of her; flushed from the tips of her ears to the slope of her chest, is enough to make Yaz fall in love with her all over again. 

When she feels her trembling in her effort to hold back her impending release, Yaz captures her lips once more, swallowing the moans she’s unable to restrain. “You can let go, Doctor,” she whispers tenderly, dropping her lips to her chin, then her jaw. “I’ve got you.”

She slips a finger into her core, thrusting once, twice, three times in tandem with strokes to her clit before a keening cry melts against the shell of Yaz’s ear and she pulses and tightens around her, hips jumping to chase her climax. 

“You’re brilliant,” the Doctor murmurs almost drunkenly against the bare skin of Yaz’s shoulder five minutes later, curled around her like she’ll disappear if she so much as breaks contact. “Absolutely brilliant, Yaz.”

“Right back at you, Doctor,” Yaz returns, fingertips moving in an irregular rhythm against the Doctor’s hip. She hadn’t even got her out of her clothes in her rush to make her feel good, which she regrets now. “You know, you might get a little warm in this. Just saying.”

The Doctor blinks in faux-surprise. “Are you trying to get me out of my clothes, Yaz?”

“Feeling a little left out, here, that’s all,” Yaz curls her bottom lip in a pout which the Doctor is admittedly weak for, and her decision is made. 

Slipping back between the sheets, bare and warm and _Yaz’s,_ the Doctor slips a thigh between her counterpart’s and smoothes an arm around her waist with a contented sigh. 

“Much better,” Yaz purrs, shifting to slot together like puzzle pieces into place. 

Again, she starts up an uneven pattern of caresses against her hip which makes the Doctor curious. It seems as though she’s spelling something. 

“Something on your mind, Yaz?” the Doctor probes gently, sweeping an arm over her chest so she can prop her chin atop it and study her expression. “You’re spelling out a bunch of words and I’d usually be able to work it out but, unsurprisingly, my head’s a bit wonky right now.” 

Yaz breathes a laugh. Of _course_ she’d noticed that. “Just thinking,” she starts, glancing down to meet soft green eyes full of affection. She reaches out, her free hand stroking through blonde locks until her eyes flutter and she sighs through her nose like a happy feline. “I want to tell my mum — about us; to tell her we’re seeing each other.” She pauses, earning a huff when that means the hair-petting stops, too. “Would you be okay with that?” 

“Oh, Yaz,” the Doctor sighs, mostly because she’s returned to stroking her hair again. “‘Course I would. You know how much you mean to me, right?”

Yaz hums her confirmation, but truthfully, it’s going to take her a while to believe her. An alien from space with two hearts and an easy charm which could make _anyone_ fall in love with her, opting to stick around with a young woman from Earth? It’s too good to be true; anyone can see. 

“Yaz,” the Doctor’s voice drags her from her spiralling thoughts in a gentle caress. “You _do_ know, right?”

“I do, I do, I promise. It’s just — hard to believe, that’s all,” Yaz answers in earnest, because her mother once said that communication is key to a healthy relationship. 

The Doctor ghosts a kiss over the space her heart lies beneath, breathing a determined little huff. “You better start believing, Yasmin Khan.”

When Yaz falls asleep that night, warm and secure and safe in the arms of the woman she might just love, she starts on a quest to do just that; to believe. 

* * *

“Mum?” Yaz inquires the next morning through the steam of a fresh coffee, the Doctor a solid, reassuring presence at her side. 

Halfway through spreading a piece of toast, Najia turns, tilting her head. “Yes, love?” 

“The Doctor and I, we’re seeing each other.”

Najia pauses as though expecting something more, then simply shrugs a shoulder. “Oh. That’s all?” 

Yaz freezes, brow furrowing. “That’s not — that’s not a big deal?”

“‘Course not,” Najia replies, then twists her lips into a faint grimace. “We left the party early last night, Yaz. Your father wasn’t feeling great so we went straight to bed, and we — well, let’s put it this way, we’re just glad you’re enjoying yourselves.”

Yaz chokes on her tea. Bright red, the Doctor rubs at her back. 


End file.
